little of the pale face appeared above
the water. While so doing she came so near the shore, that the watcher
behind the boughs could see the delicate white outline of the profile
relieved against the dark water, and distinctly perceived how the eyes,
raised quietly toward the night heavens, flashed with a peculiar light.

He had not doubted from the first moment the identity of the swimmer,
and his heart leaped into his throat, as he recognized again the never
to be forgotten face.

Finally as if the lake wished to draw the motionless figure down into
its depths, the head sank lower and lower in the noiseless waves, as if
resting on the softest pillows. At last the water rushed and whirled
around the sinking form; she hastily turned and with powerful strokes
swam back toward the steps.

Her companion was waiting, holding in her hands a large white linen
cloak, which she threw over the swimmer as she ascended the stairs. The
next moment both disappeared within the little house. The door, it is
true, remained half open, but in the darkness it was impossible to
distinguish anything within.

Ten minutes more elapsed, then the two muffled figures again appeared
and proceeding to the gate of the enclosure, opened it, relocked it,
and then retired along the foot path by which they had come.

A long time passed ere the secret witness of this scene left the spot
through the hole in the enclosure of the pond. As soon as he found
himself alone, he had instantly plunged into the waves, but it scarcely
calmed the strange tumult in his blood. As the rising night-wind now
tossed his wet hair and blew against his breast, it seemed as if
instead of cooling him, it was trying to fan the glimmering sparks in
the ashes of his memory.

He started at the thought and involuntarily paused, as something warned
him not to return to the castle. "No," he said to himself, "that would
be too cowardly, too pitiful. Four years, four such happy years--could
I again be the old defenceless fool? And all for a pair of white arms
and two nixie eyes? What power would man have over his own soul if the
forces of nature could never be successfully battled against? No, brave
heart, we will not evade the struggle."

He returned to the courtyard gate, after a long stroll in the park,
which had thoroughly exhausted him. It was about two o'clock in the
morning; the light in the countess' rooms was extinguished. Just as he
was about to enter, he saw a man